Death's Home
by under.the.bridge.downtown
Summary: Because her home is Death's home now, and he takes very good care of her.


Sometimes, on freezing winter nights when the cold seeps into the cracks of the empty manor, she forgets she's not still in New York, living in an alley and shooting up to stay awake so her baby sister can sleep through the night. She'll wake in a sweat, her body jerking up on instinct and long fingers reaching out for the familiar heat of her sisters body. When she doesn't immediately latch onto soft skin and short hair, her heart will sputter into a panic and she'll reach for the knife that she used to keep under her pillow. When she can't find that either, she'll ball her fists ready for a brawl.

He's there almost instantly, switching on the lights and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, effectively pinning her flailing limbs to her sides and rendering her useless. She'll kick and scream for a couple of seconds, roaring out Patti's name and trying to twist away so she can destroy the fucker who ever thought he could mess with the Devils of Brooklyn and live to talk about it. He's strong though, stronger than most give him credit for and even though the top of his head still only reaches her chin, he holds on tight and doesn't let go.

"Elizabeth!" He screams, "Liz it's alright! You're safe, you're both safe!"

It takes her meisters voice to snap her back and then she's sagging against him and apologizing into her hands. He brings them down to the floor, sitting behind her and resting her back against his chest. He rocks them back and forth, back and forth until her breathing is even and her body has stopped shaking.

She's never been more glad the rooms are soundproof and he's closed the door behind him. She doesn't want Patti to see her like this.

"I'm sorry." There's no more fire in her voice, the adrenaline has stopped pumping and her limbs begin to numb. He doesn't say anything, just rubs her shoulders in a symmetrical pattern and tries to bring feeling back into her skin.

"You've dealt with my episodes more times than I can remember," he mumbles out after a while, "this is the least I can do." And she has. For years now she's been by his side, along with Patti, trying her best to help him cope with his disorder. While most of his little tantrums are more time consuming and annoying than anything else, she shutters to remember the times when she's found him locked in the bathroom with red pooling on the tiles. Or in the early hours of the morning as he trims the hedges surrounding the property in four feet of snow in bare feet, muttering to himself while his lips turn blue. There have been those times when she's had to pull him out of school and take him home, or finish missions without him. When she wields her sister and stands firmly in front of him, because no one touches her meister.

She's been strong for him, done the best she can. She used to be hard, all edges and slurs and bites. She used to be tough and scary, used to make grown men cower into corners just at the whisper of her name, angry at the world for the hand she was dealt. She used to be a devil.

Then some skinny, rich, death-god wannabe scooped her up and smoothed her out. Now she's all curves of a body that isn't frail bones from malnutrition and bad drugs. She's girly screams and long hair. Clean clothes and expensive jewelry She can let herself be afraid because she knows she doesn't have to be the strong one all the time. Their lives don't depend on whether or not she can steal enough money or sell herself to the right men for a hot meal. Even now as she fights by his side as his weapon, in sync with her sister who finally has the chance to protect her for a change, she doesn't have that _burning steel _look in her eyes. She doesn't need it. Gunmetal doesn't reflect back in her dark blue, not anymore. _  
_

She can feel the chill from his skin leaking onto hers. He's always cold, always clammy, a living representation of the one thing she used to fight tooth and nail against every day. Now that cold is a comfort, she welcomes it with open arms.

**Because her home is Death's home now, and he takes very good care of her.**

* * *

_Just a short little Liz/Kidd drabble sorta kinda. _


End file.
